


What's in a picture?

by dizzie_ds



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzie_ds/pseuds/dizzie_ds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver wants a picture of Felicity. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's in a picture?

**Author's Note:**

> Much needed fluff after an emotional day. 
> 
> If you guys are on tumblr, come say hi!   
> http://dizzie-ds.tumblr.com/

“I want your picture.”

 

Felicity is pretty sure her jaw is hanging open. Staring at the man who has just woken her up. Early. All the love she has in the world for him is forgotten at that moment. If she sees his dazzling smile, his twinkling eyes full of mischief, his confident and slightly arrogant stance at her doorway, she gives no indication of any of it.

 

“Oliver. It’s not even 7 yet. It’s a Saturday. Can’t you leave me alone for just 8 hours? Please?”

 

For his part, Oliver doesn’t look at all remorseful in the slightest. “I brought breakfast. And coffee.”, holding up his gifts. He bends his head down to peck her on the lips. “Good morning babe.”

 

Felicity should really not forgive him so easily. It would just encourage him to do it again. But she can’t fight the smile that creeps onto her face. Not when he looked so happy and the perpetual weight that was usually on his shoulders, seemed to have been forgotten this morning. He looked relaxed for once. His dimples were showing. So instead, she wraps her hands around his middle and she rests her head on his chest, dropping a kiss above his heart. “Good morning. And lead with that next time.” Taking a deep breath of his scent, she steps back to let him in.

 

Oliver lets out an amused chuckle at her, making his way into her kitchen. He proceeds to take off his jacket and taking out the rest of the items from his early morning shopping trip. They are ingredients for pancakes.

 

“You’re gonna make me breakfast?”, surprise entering Felicity’s voice, as she takes her proffered cup of coffee and settling on the seat behind her kitchen counter. Oliver has never cooked anything for her in the 3 months they’ve been dating. In his defence though, there had been little time for any of that. Saving a city took its tolls. This was the first time he even came over to her home in the morning with no emergency being the cause. Although he spent most nights with her, he did make it a point to spend some time with Thea and yesterday he had taken Thea out to dinner.

 

For the next hour, Oliver entertained her with his cooking skills, sharing breakfast and stories about his and Thea’s childhood antics. As Felicity was finishing off her second cup of coffee that morning, she revels in the care and tenderness that was being showered on her. She has every intention of milking every second of it. It’s not everyday that Oliver dotes on her so much. Although he does dote on her in other ways. She shakes her head before it runs into dangerous territory. As much as she would like nothing better to do than drag him to her bedroom, the mystery of why he came over so early is too intriguing to ignore.

 

“Now, what is the deal with the whole picture thing?”

 

Oliver purses his lips, smiling slightly, even a bit embarrassed. “Well, I was talking with Thea yesterday. When I left home to study,” he pauses and smiling, “to all the four schools I went to, we used to exchange pictures to carry with each other.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I realised I don’t have one of you and I want one.”

 

Felicity just rolls her eyes in response. “You just want to rifle through my albums don’t you?”, seeing through his real intention so easily that Oliver has no choice but to laugh in agreement.

 

“Yes, but I do want your picture.”

 

It was like watching a kid with a shiny new toy. Seeing him flip through picture after picture, album after album, peppering her with questions about each one of them. They were laying on her couch. Oliver had his back against the arm of the couch, his left leg stretched out along the back of the couch, his right on the floor. Felicity lays in between his legs, curling her side into his torso, her head tucked under his. His arm was draped around her, the other flipping the pages of the album that she was holding. His patience to listen to her explaining her photos was endearing. He dropped kisses to the side of her head every time she shared a particularly long story.

 

“That one was when I was 5…”

“I had used one of my mom’s prized dresses to clean up the oil spill from…”

“First computer I fixed…”

“This was the first casino I was barred from entering again…”

 

Finally, they reached the album of her college days at MIT. His eyes widened slightly at the Goth look she clearly rocked back then. Felicity couldn’t help but squirm under the gaze he was levelling her as his eyes shifted from her and the picture and back again and again. “Wow.” He says finally. “You look... different.”

 

“Mmm hmmm. I was a bit of a rebel.”

 

“Was? I don’t think that part of you ever changed.”

 

Now, they’re smiling at each other like idiots in love usually do. “I’m thankful for that side of me everyday.”

 

Felicity feels the silent shake of his laugh vibrating against his chest as he murmurs, “I am too.”, against her lips.

 

He notices that most of the pictures are missing in the album but he knows why immediately. “Are the missing ones…?”

 

“Yeah. Cooper’s. After the whole ‘I’m still alive and crazy criminal now’ episode, I threw all of his pictures away.”

 

Quietly, he flips through the rest of the album. Towards the end of it, there is a picture of her during her last days there. He sees the girl he met that fateful day almost four years ago. She is the Felicity he fell in love with. The one who would ultimately choose to travel across the country to come to Starling City. The one who trusted him when he was dropping lies. She is the beginning of the best part of his life. She is the beginning of his humanity. He takes the picture out of its plastic cover carefully.

 

“You want that one?”

 

“Yes. This is perfect.”

 

“Alright then. What about me? I don’t want your past pictures though. I want a recent one.”

 

Taking the album from her hands, he puts it down on the table in front of the couch and the picture that he wants to take on top of it. He digs out his phone from the pocket in his jeans. He pulls her closer of him and clicks a picture of them together.

 

“I look terrible! You look perfect as usual. I want another one. A better one.” Felicity whines, looking at the picture on his phone.

 

“Hmmm. You will always look beautiful to me Felicity. But if you want another one, then we’ll take another one.”

 

There’s something in his voice that raises her spidey senses and she turns around to look at him. “Really?”

 

He slips his hands to the hem of her tank top and begins tugging it upwards to take it off. “Really. First, you need to change out of your PJs.”

 

Felicity is too amused and turned on now to argue, lifting her hands so he can slip it off. She gets up to her feet and drags him up to stand. “You know. I’ve always wanted a nude picture of us in bed.” Her hands pull his shirt upwards off him, stepping on her toes and crashing her mouth with his before his shirt has fully come off. They make their way slowly and eventually to bed, leaving a trail of clothing behind. Their mouths don’t break their increasingly urgent kisses except to draw in a quick breath as their hands help divest each other of clothing.

 

Much, much later.

 

“I don’t think a picture is a wise idea right now.” Felicity notes as she looks at Oliver, naked, beside her, and herself. There were bruises becoming visible everywhere. They were rough again.

 

Oliver just chuckles and pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms around her. “We have time. We’ll get the picture you want.”

 

Felicity just hums and snuggles deeper into his embrace. She would tell him later that she loves the first picture he took of them on the couch. She may not have been at her best model look, but Oliver was looking at her like she was the only thing he knew existed at that moment. He didn’t seem to notice her hair that needed brushing, or the freckles on her nose, or the rest of the imperfections. He had a relaxed smile that softened his features. She just looked very content tucked into his arm. If a picture could speak a thousand words, that picture spoke a thousand words of what it meant to be loved by Oliver Queen.


End file.
